


Ring Giver

by Capucine



Category: Beowulf (Poem), Beowulf - All Media Types, Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe- Classic literature, Historical Inaccuracy, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 01:37:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1586870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Capucine/pseuds/Capucine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain America ends up in the world of Beowulf. Will he end up butting heads with the great warrior himself? And what's this about Unferth? Takes place before Winter Soldier.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ring Giver

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should apologize, but I write whatever comes to mind, so enjoy. I quite like the tale of Beowulf, and I thought it might be interesting to try this.

It wasn't every day Steve woke up in a forest alone. In fact, there were almost no days where this had happened. He squinted against the sunlight, trying to remember what had happened. 

He couldn't have possibly gotten so drunk that he just wandered into the middle of a forest, could he? He was careful not to drink too much most of the time, despite Tony's attempts to get him to 'loosen up.' To him, dancing a dance he'd never tried before was loosening up; trying a new food was loosening up; and introducing himself to some radical looking youngster was loosening up. Losing complete control of himself due to alcohol? Not what he called loosening up.

But anyway, he had barely stood before he realized he was in strange clothes. They were a tunic of some sort, a dull red, with faded blue pants underneath. He had his shield, considerably changed, hanging on his back, and in his belt there was a sword, of all things.

Steve let out a sigh. "Ha ha, very funny, Tony. I'm not that old..."

It still seemed a bit reckless to leave him out here defenseless... no, never mind, Tony might just do that and figure he could take care of himself. Steve drew the sword, seeing that it was a bit heavy and long-bladed. The metal was polished, reflecting his face, and the hilt was gold-encrusted. He'd never played knights or what have you involving swords before; most of the games in Brooklyn involved baseball. He also seemed to recall playing pretend gunfights on occasion, but that was far from this.

Steve sheathed the sword, and started walking. He had to find someone or something soon enough; Tony probably wouldn't leave him too far away from civilization. He could imagine him carrying his body through the air in the middle of the night, flying with his suit. Though, one would think Steve would wake up for something like that; it wasn't as though it was that warm a night, nor was Tony's suit particularly quiet. Granted, it wasn't a roaring train, but it made noise.

Tony wouldn't go as far as to drug him... would he? That seemed a little nefarious for Tony.

Voices came through, and Steve sighed in relief. Hopefully they would have a truck and he could ride back to New York in it...

Except, when he stepped out of the woods, he was greeted by a large building. It had massive doors, expertly carved, like one might maybe expect for a fancy church, and decorations covering it that looked expensive, from gold to jewels. It was a beautiful building, but not one you'd typically find in New York state; it looked like something out of a history book.

Men were walking into it, and they were dressed like him, swords hanging from their belts and shields hanging off their backs. They seemed a bit somber, like they were going to a church service; they had full beards, with long hair.

Steve was torn between believing this was some elaborate practical joke, and believing something was truly wrong.

He walked up to the building, and walked in the doors; if he wasn't welcome, then he'd simply leave. Inside, there was smoke, the smell of roasted meat, the chatter of men as they drank from their mugs, and a strong scent of humans. Steve coughed a moment, then walked further in. Everyone was gathered on benches, drinking and eating and not even looking at the great gold decorations and elaborate carvings; one of them looked like a great stag.

Steve was spotted almost immediately.

"Who is that man?" went the murmur.

One stood up in front of him, a dark brow and muscled build to his body; he came all the way from next to a seat at the head of the table. "Halt! Who are you, stranger?"

"Steve Rogers." Steve was starting to think this was a strange dream instead of a practical joke. He thought maybe he'd dreamed during his time frozen, and maybe he was dreaming again. This seemed like a dream setting, in any case.

"Steve Rogers. From where do you hail?" the man demanded, and his hand looked inches away from his sword. Suddenly, however, his face cleared a bit, and he tilted his head to the side, eyeing Steve's sword. "Have you come to slay the monster, Grendel?"

Where was that name familiar from? It sounded like something he should know. "I hail from Brooklyn," Steve said, and he added, "Who is Grendel?"

The man's face darkened. "Grendel... would that the monster had never been born! He is only the nightmare of our king, coating these walls with blood when we dare stay the night. He has been here for a year or more, tormenting our king so his hair becomes gray and his face becomes lined. None have been able to defeat him."

All right, if this was a joke, then he clearly had to kill the monster to go home. It just felt too authentic, however. But Steve said, "Have you tried talking to him?"

The man stared at him, as if trying to determine if he was telling a joke. "He's a monster. He deserves to die for the murder he's committed!"

"All right," Steve said, and he sighed. "I'll fight him, if you want. See if I can get him to leave."

The man gave him a grim smile. "You may try, but even I have been unable to defeat him. And with such a paltry background, how strong can you be? None have heard of you."

It was then that Steve realized everyone was watching. He cleared his throat, saying, "Well, I have er, valiantly defended the city of New York from invasion by outsiders. I'm strong, I promise you that."

"Unferth," the man with the golden crown said, "Bid Steve Rogers of Brooklyn to come to talk with me."

Unferth, the man before him, nodded, telling Steve, "King Hrothgar wishes to speak with you." He stood to the side, letting Steve pass. As Steve approached, he could see a beautiful woman on the King's left, surely the queen, if her crown was anything to go by. The men were watching silently, so he made sure to put confidence in his step.

"Yes, your majesty?" Steve asked, trying to look respectful. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to bow or not.

"You will defeat Grendel for us?" The King's voice seemed to tremble, as though this was too good to be true. "Long has he plagued my people, ever since I built this great hall, Heorot. But you are here to destroy the fiend, at last."

"Yes, sir." Steve wondered what he was getting himself into.

"Let us celebrate!" Hrothgar ordered, and the men cheered. Steve found himself being pulled into a seat, and food was placed before him. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until the scent of roasted meat and the heat radiating off of it reached his nostrils, and he dug in, regardless of cutlery to eat with.

So he was to face Grendel. Hopefully, this would turn out to be some huge joke by Tony, though as more and more time passed, Steve was starting to seriously consider that he had somehow gone back in time...


End file.
